(laughing maniacally)
-♪ I can't believe you're all mine ♪ -Uh, what?
-♪ You and me for all time ♪ -Ugh!
♪ I'm never, ever, ever gonna be alone again! ♪
Oh, boy!
-♪ The dream team, you and me ♪ -For all eternity?
-♪ For all eternity! ♪ -(yells)
BOTH: ♪ It's the ghost, it's the ghost ♪
♪ And Molly McGee ♪
♪ I've been cursed, it's the worst! ♪
MOLLY: ♪ Now you're stuck with me! ♪
BOTH: ♪ We're never gonna be apart ♪
♪ Is there a way to hit restart? ♪
-Nope! -BOTH: ♪ We're the ghost ♪
♪ Ghost and Molly McGee ♪
-That's me! -Well, that's she.
BOTH: ♪ The Ghost and Molly McGee! ♪
(whimsical music playing)
Thanks for helping me set up my art space, Molly.
I can already tell you're gonna be one of the greats.
MOLLY: Monet, Da Vinci, and...
-Ooh. Oh! -...Sharon.
And I can use this canvas your Grandma Nin gave me for my birthday.
Aw, look, she left me a note.
Probably some words of encouragement.
SHARON: "Hurry up and paint something."
Or... that.
Being a mom is a full-time job.
-Plus, I've been Gig-Pigging... -(horse neighs)
...and volunteering at the nursing home,
picking up Darryl from his many, many... many detentions.
But... today, your only job is "artiste". No distractions.
(Scratch chomps, munching)
Scratch! Those are for painting!
Oh, so when you don't want produce to go to waste, you're a hero,
but when I want to eat it, I'm the bad guy?
(screams)
Bye.
Well, nothing left to do but start.
(sniffs)
Ah, smell that fresh canvas.
High quality.
But that's a good thing, right?
A beautiful blank slate, ready to become whatever I want.
The only limit is my artistic vision.
Okay, Sharon, make some magic.
Hmm... No.
Maybe...
Ah! Got it.
Ooh, really?
You're gonna paint there?
-(rumbles) -(gasps)
Ooh!
What happened here?
Scratch and I are helping Darryl with his homework.
My Old Faithful diorama wasn't gonna erupt itself.
I know the ectoplasm isn't scientifically accurate,
but we're going for a wow factor.
(sighs) Look at this mess.
I've got to clean this up before the stains set in.
What? No, no, no! No way!
-MOLLY: Unhand that mop. -(squelches in distance)
This is your special art day.
I... I... I will take care of it.
Are you sure?
Absolutely. We have everything under control.
Can't wait to see your masterpiece. Bye!
(yelps, grunts)
MOLLY: Totally under control.
Scratch.
Do you not remember me saying
"no distractions," like, two minutes ago?
It rings a faint bell.
We need to let Mom focus, okay?
She does so much for us around here.
She deserves one day for herself.
Once again, your youthful naïveté betrays you, Moll.
She doesn't need focus. She needs inspiration.
A muse.
I mean, come on.
I'm practically a work of art as is.
-MOLLY: Oh, no, you don't! -(Scratch grunts)
(suspenseful music playing)
It's okay, Sharon. Paint on me. Go ahead.
You're right, canvas.
Just got to get started.
Here we go.
Look, I don't want to tell you how to do your job.
I'm not an artist.
But... this seems like an uninspired start.
But what do I know?
I'm just a really expensive canvas.
Don't listen to me. Do your thing.
You cannot deprive the world of this face, Molly.
It'd be cruel.
I am not letting you distract Mom!
Too late. Toodles.
-(whimpers) -Actually, are we sure about the whole
"bowl of fruit" thing?
Do you think it's worthy of hanging in the Louvre?
At The Getty? Or even the Brighton First Savings Bank lobby?
Because it's not.
Paint me like one of your French ghouls.
(yelps) Scratch!
Uh, how long have you been there?
Long enough to hear you talking to yourself.
-Wait, you heard... -Oh, you haven't started yet?
Good. I'm here to help.
What you need, Sharon, is a muse.
Do I amuse you?
MOLLY: Scratch!
Go! March now! Whoa!
Mom, I am so sorry for another distraction.
The only distraction, Molly, is you.
I'm providing a valuable service.
And... for free, I might add. (groans)
Maybe I should just try again some other day.
No, no, no, no, no. No!
I promised you'd have one full day of art-ing, and that is
a Molly McGee Guarantee.
-This is the last distraction... -(Scratch grunting)
...you'll get from us. Right, Scratch?
Give me a chance!
What do you want? Impressionism?
Cubism? Melting clocks?
It tickles a little bit, but I'll do it for you, Sharon!
SCRATCH: You need me!
Great. Just you and me.
What are you waiting for, Sharon?
You're a painter, aren't you?
Yes. Exactly. I'm a painter.
-Then why am I still blank? -(ominous music playing)
(in altered voice) You're not afraid to paint, are you?
No, but...
You know what? I just remembered.
I have to pay the electricity bill.
Can't paint in the dark, now, can I?
-DARRYL: I don't think so. -(groaning)
Don't worry, Mom. I got the whole family on distraction duty.
No one goes in... or out.
We're all here to support you, honey.
You deserve it.
(whispers) Target her midriff.
(Sharon grunting)
Cease fire.
You're all very... thoughtful.
Wow.
So there's really nothing left for me to do but paint, huh?
-Isn't that what you wanted? -Yep, it sure was.
Is! Is!
Great. So get back down there and paint.
We can't wait to see the results of your artistic genius.
(door closes)
(upbeat music playing)
♪ You're not gonna clean your gutters ♪
-♪ Not today ♪ -(yelps)
♪ You're not gonna fold that laundry ♪
♪ Or help in any way ♪
♪ You're just gonna let your family ♪
♪ Make your dreams come true ♪
♪ Today ♪
♪ It's just your masterpiece and you ♪
(spooky stinger)
♪ You can't do the dishes ♪
♪ You can't sweep the halls ♪
♪ Even your own mother ♪
♪ Will be screening all your calls ♪
-♪ You won't need a snack break ♪ -(stomach growls)
♪ 'Cause they're gonna bring you food ♪
Ah, ah, ah. I wouldn't do that if I were you.
♪ You're not gonna run your errands ♪
♪ Nor dust that shelf ♪
♪ You're not gonna drive karate carpool ♪
♪ Darryl's doing that himself ♪
PETE: Wait, wait, wait, wait!
♪ Get a little bit of me time ♪
♪ It's so overdue ♪
-♪ Today ♪ -Ooh!
♪ It's just your masterpiece and you ♪
No more distractions left.
(exhales deeply)
I can do this.
-CANVAS: Who are you kidding? -(ominous music playing)
You had a whole day to paint me,
but I'm still a blank white canvas.
My fine bristles haven't even grazed the canvas.
-You've done nothing. -PAINT: That's not true.
She's made some very questionable color choices.
Who mixes paints to make taupe on purpose?
Did you lose your spark?
PAINT: Did she ever even have it?
-PAINTBRUSH: Put me back in my case. -PAINT: You don't deserve me.
Hey, we did it.
Got that stubborn ketchup stain out of the tablecloth.
Did a deep clean of the baseboards,
and we tightened all the knobs on the kitchen drawers.
Nothing can pull Mom away from the art now.
I cannot believe you wouldn't unleash my raw creative prowess as a muse.
-Oh, boy. -You got Fort Knox in front of you...
-Mm-hm. -...and you're picking up pennies out
-on the sidewalk. I'm gold, baby! Gold! -Sure, yeah. Yeah.
-Yeah, you're gold, all right. -(door closes)
-What was that? -(grunts softly)
-Mom? -(seat belt clicking)
Uh, where are you going?
I've... got an emergency Gig-Pig job, and I need the money to buy more paint.
Anyway, gotta go. Bye!
-(tires screech) -(engine revs)
I don't know, Scratch.
Something weird is going on here.
It's almost like...
she doesn't want to paint...
-me. -What?
-(paper bag rustles) -(Sharon sighs)
You won't judge me, will you?
SHARON (in deep voice): Heck, no. I'm on your side, Sharon.
Devour me, guilt-free.
-Mother! -(in normal voice) Molly!
-What are you doing? -Did that come with fries?
-Uh, I can explain. -(squeaking)
-I thought you were on a job. -(Scratch grunting)
This is my job.
I'm on my lunch break,
which I'm taking before the job...
which doesn't make sense.
Would you believe I'm taste testing
the new Slammin' Spice-tacular burger?
(munching) Mmm-mmm. Hmm!
Notes of... beef.
We're still waiting to hear about those fries.
-(Sharon grunting) -Stop! We're trying to...
(grunts) ...support you!
Don't leave me alone with that... thing!
But... art is your passion, Mom.
Why would you not want to paint?
You don't understand.
I've been trying to paint all day, and...
Well, just see for yourself.
-(both gasp) -Mom!
What happened to the masterpiece you've been working on all day?
You don't see it?
Clearly, she's using negative space
to represent the vast nothingness that is...
Ah. Sharon, I tried, but I can't sell it.
Sorry. What is this?
(sighs)
I've been too scared to start.
-Scared? -I've always had excuses
why my art didn't work out.
School, babies, moving, work.
But now that I'm finally free to pursue my passion...
What if I'm just not good enough?
Mom, I'm gonna give you the kind of advice
that you usually give me.
Your art doesn't have to be perfect.
It's an expression of how you feel.
And sometimes, feelings are messy.
Oh!
I'll be proud of you no matter how messy it gets.
Oh. Since when did you
-start mom-ing me, huh? -I learned from the best.
Yes, yes, we're all very moved.
Now, I've got a really good pose for you that I totally came up with myself.
Hmm. What am I thinking about?
Scratch, you sat in paint!
Oh! Oh! Get it off!
-Oh! -Hold still, will you?
I'm trying to help...
(squelches)
(gasps) Oh, no!
Mom's canvas!
-(gasps) -Oh, my corn, I'm so sorry!
I'm so sorry, Mama!
-Now we've ruined your art day! -I can't help it
that I've got a booty that won't quit.
Huh. Now that it's got some paint on it,
it's a lot less intimidating.
Actually, it looks kind of... good?
-(inspiring music playing) -(paint squelching)
Mom, you're doing it!
Yes. I'm in the zone.
(chuckles)
Now, stop distracting me. Out.
See? I am a muse.
Your butt was the muse.
My butt is me. I am taking the win.
SCRATCH AND MOLLY: ♪ The Ghost and Molly McGee ♪
(upbeat music playing)
(engine whirring, sputtering)
Okay, Pete, put those shoulders back,
find that perfect lawn-mowing form.
PETE: Ruben's watching.
(mower engine whirs)
Whoa! (yelping)
(sniffs, sighs) Freshly cut grass.
One whiff, and I'm a 7-year-old
in Ada, Oklahoma, at my birthday party in the park.
Reminds me of the day I brought my turtle Simon home
and lined his terrarium with grass.
Eh, doesn't remind me of anything more than hay fever.
What? Seriously?
Grass doesn't remind you of any happy memories?
-Nope. Nothing. -(Pete screaming)
You know, now that I think about it,
you never talk about your life before you were a ghost.
That's because I don't remember anything about my life
before I was a ghost.
Well, except for one thing.
BOTH: Yes?
I distinctly remember...
I was going to take a nap. Good night.
-(both groan) -Come on, Scratch.
At least try to remember. You're my best friend.
I want to know everything about you!
Fine.
There was maybe this one thing.
Surly Sid's Strawberry Soda.
-But I... What? What are you doing? -(phone keypad clicking)
Surly Sid's Strawberry Soda, founded in 1909
and regarded as the tastiest soda of the Midwest until...
(gasps) Oh, no!
The factory shut down years ago.
(groans angrily)
Darn you, society's improving health awareness!
In the past. Who cares?
(gasps) I got it!
Okay, follow me on this.
This nap isn't happening, is it?
Nope, it is not.
Maybe, just maybe,
if you could taste that soda,
it'll be the plunger to the clogged drainpipe
that is your memories.
Hmm, gross analogy, but solid theory.
Taste is a strong trigger for sensory memory.
Ah-ha! We're getting that soda!
And I know just the guy for the job.
Got it. It wasn't easy,
and I did have to dabble in the dark web.
Saw some things I cannot unsee.
But I nabbed the very last Surly Sid.
-DARRYL: Huh? -Tell me that isn't a soda.
We have a new healthy initiative at this school, which means no soda.
Now, I know how hard it is to resist those delicate bubbles.
The fizzy pop-pop-popping on your tongue
like gentle rain pitter-pattering during a summer storm.
-(tempting music playing) -Drawing you in, tempting you to indulge
a harmless little sippy sip...
-Uh, Principal O'Connor? -(music stops)
Huh? Oh, sorry.
(clears throat) As I was saying, no soda in school.
Here's a tip, if those cravings creep up,
always keep some turnip juice within arm's reach.
(slurps, retches)
(gulps, shudders)
It's just as good. (groans softly)
Well, thanks for trying, guys.
I guess I can't remember anything.
-Oh, well. -You know me better than that.
We're getting that soda.
O'Connor keeps confiscated contraband in a safe behind his diploma.
Breaking into a safe should be easy with a ghost on our side.
LIBBY: Right, Scratch?
Uh, you'd think so, wouldn't you? (laughs nervously)
-But uh, ghosts cannot go through safes. -(clanks)
Some kind of ghost-proof metal.
No problem, I know the combo.
His mother's birth date, age he wants to retire at,
and grams of sugar in an eight-ounce soda can.
Okay, we have a motley crew of outsiders assembled.
Now it's time to plan a heist.
(spy action music playing)
All right, here's how this is gonna go.
Libby will sneak into the art room
while Miss Milo is distracted.
SINGER: ♪ She's always busy knitting ♪
MOLLY: Using the art supplies,
you'll create an exact replica of a Surly Sid's bottle.
SINGER: ♪ A-plus in counterfeiting ♪
MOLLY: Darryl will hack into the school's surveillance system
and monitor O'Connor's movements.
SINGER: ♪ He'll be the eyes in the sky ♪
(scoffs) That's easy.
DARRYL: But I don't like to hack on an empty stomach.
I'll need some snacks.
SINGER: ♪ He's thinking fries and a pie ♪
MOLLY: When the coast is clear,
Scratch and I will sneak the decoy into O'Connor's office and open the safe!
-SINGER: ♪ They're gonna swap it ♪ -(glove squeaks)
Whoa. Oh, no. No, no, no, no.
No, no, no, no!
-(glass shatters) -But when we do it for real,
I won't drop it.
SINGERS: ♪ Just swap the fake and then ♪ (vocalizing)
♪ Bring home the bacon, then ♪
♪ Meet at the rendezvous with memories awakened ♪
Who's in?
Me.
You guys sure about this?
We're talking about breaking into the principal's office.
Hey, if there's a chance for my best friend
to remember his past, it's worth the risk.
We strike at lunch.
(school bell rings)
Libby, how's that decoy soda?
LIBBY: Almost finished.
Mwah!
DARRYL: Come in, Sunshine.
Do you copy? Papa Bear has entered the cave.
-What does that mean? -Are you talking to me or Molly?
-Over. -Ugh! Amateurs.
I said, "O'Connor is in the teacher's lounge."
(yelps) Scratch, are you kidding me?
-(munching) -Tacos? Now?
You can't expect me to heist on an empty stomach.
-(frustrated groan) -One soda pop decoy, as promised.
(gasps) Libby, this is amazing!
Is there anything you can't do?
Yes. Woodworking.
-My white whale. -(crackling)
PRINCIPAL O'CONNOR: Um, where are my tacos?
I have no lunch. I am lunchless.
Bates, was this you? Lightfoot?
Maybe I have some breath mints in my office.
Sunshine, we've got a 10-33.
Livestock loose on the highway?
DARRYL (over radio): No, that's a 10-54.
Papa Bear is on the prowl.
Ugh, and that is...
O'Connor is headed back to his office!
What? He's Papa Bear?
Oh, this wasn't part of the plan.
Libby, we need a distraction.
-Oh! -Hello.
It's Argentinean Appreciation Day.
LIBBY: I came to share a slice of my culture.
(plays notes)
Time to go to work, old gal.
(playing melody)
-(clapping) -(Principal O'Connor's stomach growls)
DARRYL: Papa Bear is back in the bear cave.
Sunshine, you and Groucho are up.
You know who I mean.
DARRYL (over radio): Use context clues.
(upbeat action music playing)
Wait. Stop! You don't want to leave prints.
SCRATCH: Total rookie mistake.
Ugh! Gross.
But also kind of cool, actually.
Okay, we're in.
What is the combination, Darryl?
Darryl?
Hello, Darryl?
Are you even there, Darryl?
DARRYL (over radio): That's not my name.
Oh, come on.
-Maverick? -Thank you!
I mean, I don't know why I came up with all these super cool code names,
if you guys, on an unsecured channel...
(groans)
Wait, I distinctly remember you saying that ghosts can't go through safes.
Oh. That's true.
Which means this must be a pretty cheap model.
Skimped on the ghost protection.
What? But you...
Stop thinking about that, because we got another problem.
What? Where did the soda go?
Exactly. It's a sign, Molly.
This is the universe's way of telling us
that my past must remain an unknowable mystery.
Let's just pack it up, and let's all go home
and get that nap we all wanted to take.
Hey, we can't leave.
It's gotta be in here somewhere.
Darryl? Libby?
Maverick and Tortuga.
Ugh! Whatever! We need more time!
-(laughs) -(accordion music playing)
I dedicate this next song to our beloved Principal O'Connor,
who always supports the arts.
Uh, five, six, seven, eight...
(groans)
I love this concert moment.
It gives lunch such a sense of occasion.
Sunshine? Tortuga?
I've lost visual on Papa Bear.
I'm just so hungry.
If I could just...
PRINCIPAL O'CONNOR: Taco sauce is food-adjacent.
-(whimpers) -(explosion)
Hot! Hot! Hot! Out of my way!
-(screaming) -(sizzles)
Okay, what about here?
No. Ugh!
Come on! That soda has to be in here.
Ah... al dente. My favorite.
(gasps) Molly!
O'Connor is headed for his office.
-DARRYL (over radio): Get out of there! -(both gasp)
Tongue burning.
Must quench.
Uh-uh. Tastes like liquid earwax.
(beeping)
(lock whirring)
There's that forbidden fizz O'Conny needs.
(gasps) I knew it. It is here.
Face recognition?
Seems like a waste of tax dollars to me.
-(staple clatters) -All right, you jokers. Who did that?
I bet you stole my tacos too!
-Tacos? -Now's your chance
to slip out of here clean, Moll.
MOLLY: Wait a second.
Tacos?
(munching)
You stole Principal O'Connor's lunch.
And ghosts not being able to go through safes was a lie.
You sabotaged this heist. Why, Scratch?
Because I don't want to remember my past life.
What if I forgot it for a reason?
Oh, Scratch.
I can see how that would be scary.
And I understand if you don't want to remember.
But if there's any part of you that does want to know,
I'm here no matter what.
O'CONNOR: Gonna take my tacos...
-(gasps) -...and leave me hungry? Oh, no.
Oh, you're messing with the wrong principal.
(clatters)
-Swap that soda! -SCRATCH: Swap that soda!
Now we can leave.
Oh, sweet elixir.
How I've missed you, my old friend.
(gulps, spits)
Wow. That does not taste like I remembered it.
MOLLY: Well, it's up to you, Scratch.
I don't want to pressure you to do something you're not ready for.
Well, you did go through all that work for me.
Of course we did.
Anything for you, buddy.
(breathes deeply)
Okay. I'm ready.
(pops)
(smacks lips)
(light suspenseful music playing)
-Nothing. -Really?
(sighs) Well, we tried.
And hey, we got away with breaking
into the principal's office, right, Darryl?
SHARON (on radio): You broke into where?
Molly and Darryl McGee, get in here.
What? No, Mom! Oh, corn.
This is what happens when you don't respect the code names.
(smacks lips, gasps)
Let's make a promise.
Every time we drink this soda, we'll think of each other.
That way, I'll never forget you.
And you'll never forget me.
(light music playing)
(closing theme music playing)